


Inertia

by liziscribbles



Series: Outlaws [1]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Akechi is a Dick, Alternate Universe - Space, Futuristic, Like A Major Dick, M/M, Mid 20's Phantom Thieves, Mind Control, Ships Don't Appear Until Later, Space Pirates, mental manipulation, part of a series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-24 05:10:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18161870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liziscribbles/pseuds/liziscribbles
Summary: As teenagers, Akira Kurusu, Ryuji Sakamoto, Ann Takamaki, and Futaba Sakura formed the Phantom Pirates with plans to live outside the law.Fast forward ten years, in their mid-twenties.  Now, they're privateers working under contract with the galactic navy, the Velvet Corps.  The Phantom Pirates travel to the furthest reaches of the galaxy, fighting the criminals the Velvet Corps can't reach.  When that contract takes them to the ice cold Bufu Nebula, and to a villainous mercenary leader, they meet a mysterious bodyguard...





	1. Chapter 1

The barren wasteland spread out before Akira, the tumbleweeds kicking up dust as they rolled past. A pack of buzzards flew in a circle overhead, their cawing serving as the only sound Akira could hear. Akira stepped forward, the spurs on the back of his boots jingling softly with each step. A warm breeze blew by, kicking up more dust and forcing Akira to raise his arm to guard his eyes against the oncoming storm. A little bit of dust still managed to get up his nose when he breathed in, and he sneezed against his volition. His sneeze echoed out into the open space, and on instinct, Akira crouched to hide behind a nearby bush.

A scream cut through the silence, followed by the pounding thrum of hoof beats, and Akira poked his head out from the bush. Suddenly, he was acutely aware that if he didn't move, the Dawn Rider and her crew would get the others. Akira pulled in a sharp breath. He was still several hundred yards from Burnbrook Settlement, where he knew the others were waiting for him. It looked like he had a clear path, but the Dawn Rider's men were prolific hiders.

 _Since when have you ever been afraid of taking risks?_ Akira asked himself as he stood up straight and wrapped his hand around his six-shooter. If anyone tried to stop him, he'd just have to shoot.

When the second scream echoed out, Akira started moving without realizing it. After about fifteen feet, Akira heard a cavalcade of gunshots ring out. Troubling, considering he knew that only one of the allies he was going to meet actually carried a firearm. He crossed the Burnbrook border and blinked when he saw a familiar dapple gray horse speeding out of the city in a panic. The mayor's horse was hardly a coward, so something must have gone terribly wrong. Gunshots still echoed almost like a noisy chorus, and Akira picked his step up, dashing in a sprint so intense his hat flew off and floated calmly to the ground in the opposite direction. He didn't even spare it a passing glance.

By the time a third scream echoed out, Akira had arrived at the door of the Black Diamond Saloon. Three familiar voices rang out from inside the room. The first belonged to Ryuji Sakamoto, who was frantically trying to order the saloon patrons to stay down and keep out of the line of fire. "Stay the fuck down! If one of you assholes gets shot, don't come crying to me!"

The second voice belonged to Futaba Sakura, who threw plenty of taunts at their attackers. "Dawn Rider," she snorted derisively. "What a lame name for the bandit queen of the west! No wonder you can't hit us!"

"Futaba, sh!" the third voice, Yuuki Mishima, commanded. "Remember what happened last time you taunted her? She didn't shoot at _you_ , she shot at _me_! I don't know about you, but I really have no desire to die here."

Ryuji grumbled in frustration, firing off another shot from his sawed-off shotgun, which sent one of the Dawn Rider's men sailing through the swinging saloon doors. The man rolled down the front steps, and into the dusty streets. "If _both_ of you don't shut up, the Dawn Rider won't _have_ to shoot you, 'cause I'll do it!" he snapped. "Where the shit is Akira? It ain't like it takes forever to get into Burnbrook from where he was."

A little smirk formed on Akira's face, and he glanced around them, trying to formulate some kind of plan. Sure, he could have walked through the door and lost the element of surprise, but where was the fun in that? The bank next door to the saloon had a ladder leading up into the second floor—if Akira had to hazard a guess, he'd assume the Dawn Rider's men were up there, stealing the town's treasury and jewels and whatever else they could get their grubby paws on—and suddenly, an idea hatched in Akira's mind. Trusting that his friends could take care of the situation for now, Akira rushed over to the bank and gathered the ladder. A couple of the Dawn Rider's men noticed the missing ladder right away and cursed at Akira through the window, but it only made Akira laugh.

"Should've thought of that when you used a ladder to rob a bank," Akira mumbled under his breath as he leaned the ladder against the wall of the saloon.

The ladder almost reached the second story window, and it would take minimal effort for Akira to get in from up there. He made quick work of climbing, listening with amusement at the taunts Futaba _still_ hurled at the Rider and her crew. He couldn't really hear them through the wall, but he could hear the tone of her voice plainly. By the time he reached the window, the bank robbers across the way were shooting at him. He had to work quickly. Akira smacked the windowpane with the butt of his pistol, flinching at the loud crashing of the glass breaking, but immediately felt a sense of satisfaction at the way all the heads in the room turned toward him.

It seemed like the Dawn Rider was taken completely off guard, as was her whole troupe of men. While they were surprised, Akira fired on three of the peons, watching as they fell to the ground one after the other. The Rider growled in anger. "Kill these varmints!" she shouted, pointing back at the bar, where Akira could easily see his friends hunkered down.

"'Bout damn time you showed up," Ryuji shouted from the ground, before firing at the first guy to get to the bar.

Futaba huffed but nodded along with Ryuji. "Yeah, we thought we were in Screwedville! Nishi and me ran out of throwin' ammo like, ten minutes ago!"

With a roll of his eyes, Akira fired at the first of the peons, who tried to climb the decorative wall lattice to get to him. "Listen. You guys know as well as I do how long it takes to get back here from outside town," he answered, firing another three shots into the guy when he tried to get back up.

"Told you he'd get here soon!" Mishima answered, before grabbing an empty bottle and tossing it at someone who was trying to grab Futaba. "Get off her, you creep."

Swooning dramatically, Futaba draped herself over Mishima's lap. "Oh, Nishi, my hero! You sure know how to treat a lady!"

Mishima scoffed. "Sh-shut up!"

Ryuji snorted a laugh. "Get a room, you two," he muttered.

"Seriously," Akira answered, jumping down onto a table and delivering a sharp kick to another bandit's shoulder. The man shouted and tried to run for Akira, but Akira responded with a quick shot, right between his eyes. The blood flowed in an almost artistic fountain, up into the air, and rained down on Akira like a shower. "Oh, come on, really? I liked this outfit!"

Futaba shrugged. "You can wash it."

"Yeah, but the nearest wash station is back in like... Circle Creek. No chance I'm going back there until we absolutely have to," Akira pointed out, firing at another bandit, who tried to pull him off the table.

Just then, the whole situation started going belly up. Mishima popped up from behind cover. "Akira! Behind-"

Akira never got to hear the end of the sentence. The Dawn Rider acted quickly, firing a round right square between Mishima's eyes. Mishima fell to the ground beyond of Akira's vision. A bright blue light emanated from behind the bar as Mishima's body vanished. Akira barely had enough time to react, though, because the bandit behind him grabbed hold of his ankle and tried to drag him to the floor and into a fistfight. As soon as the hand touched his pant leg, Akira kicked backward, the spur of his boot coming into direct contact with the man and making him scream and double over.

Akira cursed, but before he could tell Futaba and Ryuji to stay in cover, Futaba took the opportunity to stand up and throw another glass at the bandit who'd killed Mishima.

Futaba's cry of, "You _asses_! Nishi didn't deserve that!" was met with an amused peal of laughter from the Dawn Rider, and that was when Akira realized that Futaba was playing right into the Dawn Rider's plan.

"Yes, he did! Y'all lawmen _all_ deserve every bit of this for what you did to my headquarters!" The Dawn Rider drawled as she fired directly at Futaba twice, the first shot hitting her in the shoulder and then the second hitting her square between the eyes as she recoiled. Futaba stumbled and then fell to the ground, her body emitting the same blue light as Mishima had. The Dawn Rider squealed excitedly, cackling as she turned and looked between Akira and Ryuji. "What d'ya know? Now we're down to Sheriff Genius and Deputy Dumbass. Just the way I like it."

With a huff of laughter, Ryuji rolled his eyes. "I don't see why. This is just gonna end the same way it _always_ does for you. With you dead and us winnin'." As if to emphasize his point, Ryuji fired at two of the Dawn Rider's men in rapid succession, sending them to the ground in heaps.

It only served to anger the Dawn Rider further. She lunged at Ryuji and ordered all of her remaining attackers to close in on Akira. Before Akira even had time to react, he was completely surrounded. Two of the Dawn Rider's men reached out to grab him from each side, and Akira fought them off as best he could, but when a loud shot rang out from the other side of the room, Akira and the men around him all jumped to attention. Unfortunately, Akira quickly realized exactly how screwed he was when Ryuji cursed and fell to the ground just like the others, then disappeared into blue light.

Which left Akira, alone against the Dawn Rider and four of her men. If he didn't think fast, everything would've been for nothing.

Akira kicked the first bandit when they lunged at him, then grabbed the roof support beam over his head. He swung, kicking two of the other bandits and then hitting the last in the eye with his spur, so he hunched over and screamed in agony. Now, it was down to Akira and the Dawn Rider... the sheriff and the outlaw, just like it was supposed to be. Akira _wished_ his friends were still here, but if this was how the story ended, he could think of worse ways.

Neither sheriff nor outlaw spoke. At this point, it felt like they'd said everything they needed to say, anyway. As Akira looked down at her from his high ground, gripping the handle of his six-shooter, he took a careful step forward on the support beam. In the back of his mind, he could hear stereotypical western movie music playing, but he shook the thought off quickly and focused his attention back on the Dawn Rider. She had her pistol raised and aimed at him, and a deranged glint in her eye. Akira was acutely aware that if he didn't act soon, he'd be in big trouble.

With a light chuckle, Akira grinned and said, "I got this, guys."

Then before the Dawn Rider could fire a shot, Akira leaped from the support beam, aiming his six-shooter's last shot while he descended, and firing. Time almost seemed to dilute as he descended to the ground. As his feet hit the floor, his bullet impacted with its target, soaring through the Dawn Rider's left eye. She stayed standing for only a fraction of a second longer, before swaying on her feet and then crumpling to the ground, dead. Akira felt a swell of pride as the twang of a western guitar filled the room, playing a victory tune. Finally, after _all these years spent trying_ , he'd taken her out.

Akira reveled in his victory for only a moment, looking around the room at all the bodies, before he reached behind his head and felt for the all-too-familiar switch. Then, with a last grin at the Dawn Rider's corpse, he flicked the switch from 'ON' to 'OFF.' Slowly, the scenery shifted from the Black Diamond Saloon to the familiar chrome and carpet of the arcade on the fifth ward of the Bastion. The western music changed to the sound of his friends' voices and the myriad of other nameless voices walking around the arcade. As much as Akira loved the game, he was glad he wasn't _really_ stuck living in a miserable, technology-free environment like that.

When the shift was finished, Akira reached up and unlatched the VR helmet. The very second he took it off, he saw Mishima standing behind the gate to the VR gaming floor, cheering like a wild man as Akira approached his friends. Futaba rolled her eyes at him affectionately, and Ryuji just smirked.

"That was _so cool_!" Mishima announced, pumping his fist in the air for dramatic emphasis. "I can't believe you _jumped from the beam_ to take her out! You looked like an action movie superhero or something!"

Futaba snorted a laugh and punched Akira in the shoulder. " _Finally_ ," she huffed. "I thought you were never gonna lose."

Confusion etched itself across Akira's features. "I didn't lose, though," he pointed out.

"Alright, alright, whatever. I thought you were never gonna _win_ , then," Futaba amended hesitantly.

Ryuji laughed. "You're just jealous 'cause he didn't even need us to win, Oracle," he teased.

"Shut up, Skull!" Futaba punched Ryuji in the shoulder this time, then turned her attention to Akira, draping her arm over his shoulders and hanging from him like some sort of monkey. "Whatever. That just means the _winner_ has to buy us Chinese for dinner. It's been way too long since you've bought us dinner, Kiki."

No matter how many times Futaba called Akira 'Kiki,' he never got used to it. He winced and made a disapproving face, no matter how fruitless his disapproval would inevitably be, and decided to play into her tease. "Aw, it'd be my pleasure to take the losers to Chinese food. Gotta save your dignity _some_ how. Can't have you running my ship at half-skill like a _loser_ would," he teased, his grin wry.

Simultaneously, Futaba and Ryuji shouted, "hey!" and Futaba dropped down from where she'd been hanging dramatically from his shoulders.

Mishima just laughed. "Let's be real, guys," he pointed out. "We earned the loser title. He made us look like 'em when he covered for us back there!" He pointed at the VR chamber and smirked.

"Alright, alright. Enough with your weird hero worship thing, Nishi. Inflate his head enough and he won't buy us dinner anymore. I dunno about you, but any day when we don't get delicious lo mein or fried rice is a wasted one in my book," Futaba shoved Mishima gently, causing him to stumble into Akira and Akira to nearly stumble over a railing and into the man-made river in the middle of the Bastion's eighth ward.

After recovering, Akira half-listened as their friends discussed some game they'd played together back on the ship. His mind and his eyes wandered as they made their way to the sky-taxi lot at the end of the fifth ward's arm. Futaba hated the Chinese place on the fifth ward, claiming it always made her sick, so the plan was to go to one of the upscale ones on the eighth ward, near Akira's apartment. Akira couldn't help but notice that the whole day had already become significantly more expensive than he planned, but in the end, he didn't really mind. His friends were happy, and if they were happy, so was he. Besides, he could afford it.

They piled into the sky taxi, and Futaba and Mishima changed the topic to some new upgrade they "absolutely, positively _needed_ to put on the Leblanc," according to Futaba. The ship was already top of the line. Even better than some of the ships owned and operated by the Velvet Corps. Still, if there was a way to make it better, make it safer, Akira would never turn it away.

As the sky taxi flew past the sixth and seventh ward, the Bastion's lights flew by almost fast enough to make Akira dizzy. The Bastion was the largest human settlement outside of Earth. How humanity had managed to create a space station large and sturdy enough to carry eight million people was still a mystery to Akira, no matter how many times he thought about it. Akira had lived here for almost nine years, since he left Earth at thirteen-years-old, and he still didn't exactly understand the semantics behind what made a place like this function. He knew it was built to orbit the sun in the Sukuna Hikona System, and that some brilliant scientist had engineered it back when she was a teenager with the funding from some huge corporation... other than that, it was all a mystery, though.

Eight million people walked these wards on a day to day basis, that much Akira knew. It seemed like most of those people were out and about today. Even back on the fifth ward, by the arcades, a lot of kids and teenagers seemed to be wandering around, and Akira found himself wondering if it was some kind of galaxy-wide holiday he'd missed the memo for or something.

Ultimately, it didn't matter, other than bringing Akira to the acute realization that they would probably have to deal with a wait before they could get their Chinese food. Futaba would probably complain, and as they stepped out of the sky taxi, Akira realized _he_ didn't really look forward to the wait, either. He was pretty hungry.

Luckily, the crowds on the eighth ward were a lot thinner. The eighth ward was a bit more upscale, which meant it was less frequented by kids and teenagers. The four of them could navigate it a little bit easier through the thinner crowd. Even so, Futaba alternated between walking closer to Akira and closer to Mishima, whoever she was nearest to at the time. She was outgoing around friends, but she was still tentative around strangers. As they approached the restaurant district, the various smells teased Akira's senses and made him all the hungrier.

It seemed like Futaba felt the same way because she grabbed Mishima's wrist and beckoned for Ryuji and Akira to speed up. "C'mon, slowpokes! If I get any hungrier, my stomach's gonna file a formal complaint and get me arrested!" she commanded.

Ryuji and Akira exchanged amused looks, and the four of them headed to the restaurant together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, folks! This fic is going to be split into a whole bunch of 3-5 chapter bits, with a huge, overarching story! The Shukita bits won't appear until way, way later, and even then it's gonna be a kinda slow burn! I hope you guys are in it for the long haul! ♥
> 
> Thanks to [Nada](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NadaCreations/pseuds/NadaCreations) for betaing this whole mess for me and for keeping me from smacking my head against the wall to hard when I ran into bumps! ♥


	2. Chapter 2

Unfortunately, the restaurant was incredibly crowded. There wasn't a free seat to be found, and Futaba's social anxiety was working overtime to make her tragically uncomfortable even when they were inside. Mishima had managed to keep her calm so far, keeping her mind occupied by talking about some new ship upgrade he'd seen in a magazine. Akira knew they could talk about ship and particle upgrades for hours, so he didn't drag their attention away. From the corner of his eye, he saw Ryuji texting Ann to ask if she wanted anything from the restaurant, and he couldn't help but chuckle.

"You know what? Why don't we just order food for everyone and take it back to the ship?" Akira asked.

Futaba's eyes shot open and she flashed Akira an incredulous look. "I dunno where you think all that money's coming from, but—"

Akira chuckled softly. "I got it," he explained.

"Whoa, moneybags!" Ryuji teased, his face twisted in exaggerated amazement.

The truth was, Akira didn't really spend much of the money he got from their loot. He did have a decent sum tucked away, but it wasn't like he was a rich snob or anything like that. He just never really saw anything worthy of spending his money on. Most of what he needed, he already had on the ship. The only thing he really deemed worthy of spending extra money on was his friends. Outings like this, making sure his friends knew exactly how much he valued and appreciated them. Akira strove to make sure, no matter what happened, that the people around him knew how important they were.

"Easy there, you might get pickpocketed if people hear you tellin' us that dinner's on you," Futaba joked.

Akira chuckled and rolled his eyes. "What can I say? I feel like sharing my victory with everyone else and letting them all know that they're safe from the Dawn Rider and all her men." He puffed his chest out and twisted his body into a dramatic heroic pose.

Ryuji rolled his eyes. "You mean you just want to tell them all how you saved our sorry pathetic asses?" he asked, grinning despite his playful annoyance.

"Can't it be both?" Akira asked.

They shared a quick chuckle, but Mishima smiled eagerly at Akira. "We haven't had a Chinese and movie night with the whole crew in a long time anyway! It'll be fun! That new horror movie just came out with the alien zombies, and it's always fun to see Makoto try to hide behind the couch," he pointed out with a little smirk.

With a conspiratory smirk, Futaba punched Mishima in the shoulder gently and teased, "I'm telling her you said that."

"No, don't! She's still mad at me for that holographic werewolf prank you told me to do!" Mishima pleaded as they stepped a little closer to the front of the order line.

Ryuji grinned wryly. "Long as you promise I can poison a certain asshole's fried rice, I'm in," he joked.

At least, Akira wished he could say Ryuji was kidding, but he knew better. Most everyone on the Leblanc's crew got along great. The ground team was mostly composed of good friends, people who liked to spend time together off of the ship as well as on it. There was one exception, and that was their Velvet Corps escort, Lieutenant Goro Akechi. Velvet Corps, the galactic navy, had forced an escort on them to ensure that their group of privateers didn't run freely around the galaxy. The crew was afforded certain freedoms; freedom to take what they wanted from ships and bases they raided, freedom to keep whatever money they found on their missions... but Akechi's job was to ensure they didn't run too rampant.

Unfortunately, the man often chose to 'keep them in line' in the most infuriating way possible. Ultimately, the ship was still Akira's, and Akira was still in charge, but Akechi still liked to run around like he owned the place. From time to time, he would treat the crew like nothing more than nuisances. Not to mention his strange fixation on Akira.

Shaking the thought off, Akira leveled Ryuji with a frustrated glare and sighed. "Ryuji."

Ryuji shrugged nonchalantly, and pointed at Akira. "You were thinking it too, man," he insisted.

"I plead the fifth," Akira answered.

With a smirk, Futaba shrugged. "We were all thinking it, you don't have to tell us, Kiki."

Mishima blinked, then looked down with his brows furrowed in confusion. "Who?" he asked, then paused and looked back up at the group as realization dawned on him. "Oh! Oh, you mean Akechi?"

Snorting a laugh, Ryuji mused, "Wow, the art of subtlety is so lost on you, Mishima," and gently shoved the smaller boy in the shoulder.

As they waited in line, Akira sent a mass text to the crew, asking them what they wanted for dinner and asking someone to get the new movie on the projector in the common area. One by one, answers came in. Akira laughed at Makoto's response, when the woman insisted that they not watch a horror movie this time. After a few moments, they made it to the front of the line and Akira was pleased to note that he'd heard from everyone... save for Akechi. For the briefest of moments, he allowed himself to think that maybe they'd be able to have a nice evening without him, but when Akechi answered with his own preferred dinner, Akira sighed.

"We're all right there with you, Kiki," Futaba mused with a grin.

Their massive order came to way more than Akira would've expected, but fortunately, they got plenty of money on their last mission. Between the usual fee the Velvet Corps paid them each time, and the mint they always made once Futaba fixed the old ship parts they found, they never really worried about money too much. Akira paid, but he was still surprised when all three of his friends pitched in to help. He probably shouldn't have been surprised. That was just how they worked, after all. They were a team; they always had each other's backs and looked out for each other even in the most minor of ways. Even so, Akira couldn't help but smile. He really was lucky to have such good friends.

After they placed their order and moved off to the side to wait, Akira's communicator went off, and he took a glance at it. He sighed. "Be right back, guys. It's Velvet. Gotta take this."

"Aw, man!" Futaba complained. "Does that mean we don't get to have a movie night?"

Akira chuckled as he stepped outside of the Chinese restaurant and into a small alleyway between two buildings. When he was sure he was out of human view, he activated his communicator and watched the holographic display appear in front of him. "What have you got, Sae?"

Sae Niijima was their personal liaison with the Velvet Corps. The woman always sought to protect them. Ever since they were teenagers, back when Akira, Ryuji, Ann, and Futaba were first arrested for space piracy, Sae saw fit to utilize them rather than put them in jail like Velvet law would have ordered her to do. She turned the crew from pirates to privateers, and put them to work catching criminals far worse than they'd ever been. Eventually, she started assigning other small-time criminals, or people society overlooked, to join the team. Now, the Leblanc had a massive crew, and was in better shape than even most of the Velvet Corps' ships. That meant they were often sent to corners of the galaxy where other ships couldn't go.

"Kurusu, is your team available?" Sae asked.

Akira nodded. They didn't often say no to Sae when she asked for help, anyway. "I think most of us are somewhere on the Bastion, and the ones who aren't are already on the ship. Why?"

The exasperated look on Sae's face didn't escape Akira's notice. "We need you to gear up and be ready to go to the Bufu Nebula," she explained.

The Bufu Nebula was out in the far reaches of the galaxy. It was a small system, composed of three ice-cold planets orbiting far away from a very small sun. The temperatures never got above absolute zero, which meant that without cutting-edge atmospheric suit technology, any human stupid enough to brave the surface would freeze to death within seconds. They'd been there several times before. The frozen planets were popular for mercenaries, pirates, assassins, and other dark organizations. For a time, back when they'd been on the other side of the law, Akira and his crew had considered putting a base somewhere in the nebula.

Admittedly, he was glad it never came to that. Akira had always hated the cold. "Bufu, huh? Trying to turn us into privateer-cicles?" he joked, trying to cut some of the tension in Sae's expression.

"Well, it would remove one rat from my ever-growing nest," Sae managed to joke in return, but then shook her head. "But no. There's a group of mercenaries out there, and we can't get them. I'll send the information as soon as I know you're willing."

Akira chuckled. "Are we ever not?" he asked Sae.

With a chuckle in response, Sae raised her index finger as though conceding to his point. "Fair enough. I'll send the info to you, Makoto, and Akechi."

They finished the call with an amicable exchange, and Akira sighed to himself. They hadn't really come to the Bastion expecting a vacation, but Akira had enjoyed spending the past couple days not working. It wasn't really a complaint. Akira truly didn't mind fighting the people the Velvet Corps couldn't fight and keeping the population safe. Still, it had been a really long time since he'd had a proper break. He supposed he could wait a little while longer.

✦»✦»☪«✦«✦

For the entire sky-taxi trip from the restaurant to the dock, Futaba had dramatically complained about the smell of the Chinese food and how hungry she was. Ryuji and Mishima tried to deflect the complaints by teasing her for them, and Akira laughed them off each time. The complaints only grew twice as strong for the walk from the dock and into the ship itself. By the time they got to the conference room, Futaba was done waiting. She tore the bags open, searching through cartons and boxes of food for her own meal, and not hesitating to dig in when she finally found it. Akira couldn't help but laugh.

"That's what happens when you deny a techie her food, I guess," Akira teased her quietly as he took his seat at the head of the war table.

One by one, everyone made their way into the room, taking their respective food and not hesitating to dig in. The original plan for their group time was canceled, but the food was here and they could easily talk while they got ready for the mission. The flight to the Bufu Nebula was a pretty long one. Even at their ship's top speed, it would take them more than twenty-four Earth hours to get there. According to the information Sae sent, the Velvet Corps had tried to get to the planet several times, but the mercenaries had jammers set up to disrupt landing gear and make a safe landing completely impossible.

Fortunately, they had an effective counter. Futaba and Mishima were such a great tech team, that even if they didn't have what they needed to make it through jammers, they'd have it by the time they got to the nebula.

"So," Ann Takamaki announced around a large bite of a Chinese pastry, "Sae-san said this is on Susano-o. Isn't that, like... the coldest planet in the Bufu Nebula?" she asked.

Akira nodded once. "Yeah," he answered. "So, everyone check the environmental equalizers on your suits. If anything seems off, get them to Futaba and Mishima right away to make sure they're ready for the cold."

A mouthful of dumpling didn't stop Ryuji from voicing his disapproval. "I don't get why mercs always choose such cold-ass planets to set up shop on," he muttered, before stuffing another large bite of dumpling into his mouth.

"Probably because people like us don't get it," Ann answered with a dramatic roll of her eyes.

Ryuji arched his eyebrow. "Huh?"

Makoto nodded. "Yes, Ann is correct," she told Ryuji. "They bunker down on uninhabitable planets, with the hope that even if people are able to locate them, they won't be willing to go after them."

"In most cases, they'd be correct," Haru mused softly, before taking a sip of her tea.

Finally, it seemed like Ryuji was catching up, and he nodded eagerly. "Yeah, but they ain't ready for the Phantom Pirates!" he pumped his fist in the air, accidentally bumping Ann's tray of sweets and nearly knocking it onto the floor.

Ann scoffed, before shoving him in the shoulder and almost knocking Ryuji to the floor. "Careful! Idiot!" she huffed.

"Perhaps they aren't ready for us, but for all we know, we aren't ready for them either," Akechi pointed out. "If they're capable of implementing jamming technology strong enough to affect a whole planet's atmosphere, we should be adequately prepared. Sakura, Mishima, will you be able to repair broken environmental suits and prepare jammer protection, as well as a counter jammer of our own? You only have a short time, and—"

Futaba leaned toward Mishima, elbowing him gently in the side and murmuring, "It's like he forgets who he's talking to."

Akechi tried to level Futaba with an annoyed glare. "Excuse me, I'm right here. I would prefer if you spoke to me as such," he demanded.

Much to Akechi's surprise, Futaba was undaunted. "Okay," she started, "it's like you forget who you're talking to."

Sensing the tension between the two, Mishima cleared his throat and nodded his head. Despite his own intimidation when it came to Akechi, he pushed it aside to defend Futaba. "Y-yeah," he agreed. "Futaba and me are pretty good at splitting tasks between us. We'll work on the jammer stuff first, and if someone shows up with a suit we need to fix—"

"Which they shouldn't, because we ran checks on them last week and they were all totally fine," Futaba interrupted.

Mishima nodded, then continued. "I'll let her keep working on the jammer and take care of the suits myself," he explained, his eyes trained on Akira instead of Akechi.

With a nod and a smile, Akira gave Mishima the thumbs up. "Figured you guys had a handle on it," he told Mishima. "You can go ahead and get to work if you want, while we go over the intel we got from Sae."

Admittedly, the offer was only partially because they would need a little extra time to get everything ready. Part of it was because Futaba had never really been any good at holding back her annoyance when it came to Akechi. It never really boiled over, mostly because Futaba was more the type to make snarky comments or mock people behind their backs, but Akira always did his best to keep his eye on them and separate them when their annoyance with one another reader its head. Mishima could only keep Futaba quiet for so long, and Akira could tell he was nearing the end of that threshold at the moment.

Mishima seemed to catch on, and flashed Akira a grateful smile. "Okay. Thanks, Akira. MONA's piloting for us, but he'll let me know if we run into anything too dangerous and I have to take the helm."

"We're okay now, though," the ship's AI announced over the intercom. "My scans don't show any dangerous weather between here and there, and we should be to the Bufu Nebula in about a day and a half."

Akira glanced up at the intercom and nodded. "Thanks, MONA," he told the AI.

As Mishima and Futaba left the conference room, talking to MONA and setting him to watch for meteor showers and other inclement weather along their trip, Akira turned back to the rest of the crew, specifically Makoto. She was their main strategist. Akechi helped her, and so did Akira, but she carried most of the load. When he saw her pinching the bridge of her nose and sighing in exasperation, he half-smiled.

"You good, Makoto?" Akira asked.

Makoto nodded. "Yes. Sis' file is just... smaller than usual," she explained. "She told us the jamming technology has kept every Velvet Corps ship from getting an accurate consensus of the current conditions on Susano-o."

Shrugging nonchalantly, Akira met her uncertainty with a grin. "We'll just improvise. It's how we've lived this long, right?"

With a good-natured laugh, Makoto nodded. "Yes, I suppose. I just wish we had more information than we do," she muttered.

"It seems the only thing we know at the moment is that the leader of the group is an artist-turned-mercenary, by the name of Ichiryusai Madarame," Akechi explained, turning from his wrist display to look at the rest of the group.

The moment Akechi spoke the mercenary leader's name, Haru suddenly became twice as attentive. She watched Akechi closely, hoping for any further information, but when nothing came, she turned her attention to Akira, flashing him a pointed glance. Akira had a feeling she would want to talk when the meeting was over.

Ann hummed thoughtfully. "Art guy turned mercenary leader, huh? Sounds kinda... weird," she murmured.

"I remember sis chasing this Madarame around awhile back," Makoto interjected. "He's truly a terrible person. He was chased from the art world for being a plagiarist and a thief, so perhaps he turned to leading mercenaries because no one else would take him."

Akira shrugged. "Doesn't really matter why he did it. If he's trying to throw Velvet off so hard that he'd cover a whole atmosphere in a jammer? He can't be up to anything good. We'll just have to prepare as best we can with what info we have," he reasoned. "So, make sure you check all your equipment, and then go see Iwai so he can get us anything we might need."

Everyone nodded.

"Let's get to work preparing, guys. Since we don't know what we're up against, we can't be too ready. If you have any questions or ideas, come find me in my quarters."

With that, the meeting ended. Everyone dissipated, save for Makoto and Akechi, who stayed behind to try and come up with some kind of battle strategy in spite of their lack of information. Akira stepped into the hallway, but he barely made it two steps before he heard a gentle voice calling out to him from behind.

As expected, it was Haru. "Do you have a moment, Akira?" she asked, her eyes a bit worried as they met Akira's.

"Yeah, of course. What's up, Haru?" Akira asked.

Haru glanced into the conference room, frowned, and then turned back to look at Akira. "Privately, if you don't mind. I would like to keep this conversation between us for the time being."

Akira nodded, leading a quiet and contemplative Haru through the ship's halls and into the elevator which led to his private quarters. Akira always thought his quarters were a bit too large. Sure, he was the ship's captain, but he was also a member of the crew, just the same as everyone else. As he and Haru stepped off the elevator, Akira took a glance out the small window at the stars outside. Something about the sight soothed him, calmed his frayed nerves. The calm only lasted for a second, though, because before he could even address Haru, she spoke up and called his attention.

"I apologize for the suddenness of my request," she mumbled, her posture tense as she stood near Akira's door and glanced down at the floor. "I simply... didn't wish to discuss this around the others. I would have told Mako, at the very least, but she wasn't alone."

By 'the others,' of course, Akira knew Haru really only meant Akechi, but he didn't feel the need to bring it up. "Don't worry about it, Haru. You know I'll always listen," he offered with a gentle smile, one he hoped was reassuring.

At the very least, Haru seemed somewhat calmer. "Yes, thank you. It's... it's not a matter I wish to discuss at all, but I felt it important to mention. I remember Madarame-san's name," she explained as she crossed the room and sat in the chair Akira left in the corner of his room. "I heard it in father's circles."

Sometimes, with how kind and friendly Haru was, it was easy to forget exactly how she'd ended up on his team. Her father was a man of means, and back before Haru ran away from home, he always treated her as more of an object than a person. He was trying to force her to marry a man he selected, using her as a bargaining chip, and stripping her rights away. When she finally had enough, she tried to run away but was captured by a group of mercenaries her father hired. Fortunately, the Phantom Pirates saved her from one of the mercenary bases before they could bring her back. Ever since, Haru had been a staunch and loyal ally to their cause.

"What do you know?" Akira asked her gently. This was a sensitive topic for her, and he knew it, but he also knew she would want to help.

Haru frowned. "Mako was right," she explained. "Madarame-san is a terrible man. I would hazard a guess and assume that none of his mercenaries work with him willingly."

Akira arched an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Sighing, Haru crossed one leg over the other and glanced down at the floor. "He worked closely with a group who were researching particle implants and how they relate to the brain. I only ever heard bits and pieces of their conversations, but I recall a passing mention of setting particle implants to frequencies capable of controlling another human being's mind."

"Mind-control?" Akira's eyes were wide.

Haru nodded. "I know it sounds outlandish, and it truly is merely a theory at the moment, but yes, I believe so," she insisted.

For a few seconds, the only sound in the room was the humming of the ventilation system as Akira turned the information over in his head. By all accounts, this Madarame was a terrible man. A terrible man who used mind-control to keep his mercenaries subservient. None of the people who worked for him were actually doing so willingly. As much as Akira knew it was impossible, suddenly he wanted nothing more than to help them.

"Alright, so if we can, we should try not to kill these people," Akira stated plainly.

Blinking in surprise, Haru stared at Akira for a beat, before shaking her head. "Oh, I wasn't... I wasn't trying to tell you what to do, Akira! I—"

Akira shook his head. "I know you weren't," he reassured her. "You're right, though. If these people are being forced to fight against their will, we should definitely try to knock them out instead of killing them."

Relief flooded across Haru's face and she nodded in agreement. "Yes, I think so," she told him. "I feel for these people. Had things gone even slightly different for me, had you and the others not found me and saved me when you did, I fear that father would have sought the same means to control me, and bend me to his will. I have sympathy, so..."

As much as Akira wanted to, he couldn't promise results, and he was sure Haru understood that completely. However, Akira had always been accused of having a bleeding heart. He was incapable of turning away when there was a possibility he could save someone. There was a chance for him to save many people. There was no way he could turn the opportunity down.

"We'll do whatever we can, Haru, I promise."


	3. Chapter 3

The rest of the flight to the Bufu Nebula passed without incident. No matter how hard they searched, no one on the team could pull up any more information than they already had about Madarame, the nebula, or the planet they were going to. Everything they found only reiterated how Madarame was a known thief, and how the planet was freezing cold, and lethal for anyone who showed up unprepared. The lack of information had everyone feeling tense. Sure, they'd functioned and succeeded with less information than this before, but that didn't mean they liked to make a habit of it.

Everyone on the flight deck was tense as the ship approached Susano-o's atmosphere. The radar and displays all danced with the jammer signal, and Akira couldn't take his eyes off the screens over Futaba and Mishima's heads as they piloted the crew ever closer to the dangerous signals. Everyone else seemed similarly distressed. Makoto, especially, seemed anxious as she watched the radar spike and dance around wildly. From here, the planet looked like a normal ice planet. The atmosphere didn't look particularly dangerous from this distance. That would change once they were inside it, though.

The only ones who seemed unfazed were Mishima and Futaba, the latter of whom stepped away from her copilot chair to look around at the group of them in mild annoyance. "C'mon guys. Don't worry about the jammer stuff," she told them. "We set them up to defend against basically every piece of jamming tech available in the galaxy, so unless something new has developed in like... twelve hours? We're good. Activate 'em, Nishi, and let's get going," she insisted as she grabbed Akira and Makoto's arms, tugging them toward the shuttle bay.

"You're sure?" Makoto asked.

Mishima chuckled from his pilot's chair as he turned and stood up. "We're already through the atmosphere. You tell me."

A glance at the screens showed that not only were they all showing normal readings, but there was a very obvious blip on the radar which showed exactly where the enemy base was. Akira knew better than to doubt his team, but still, seeing the radar telling them exactly where they needed to go was more of a relief than he could have properly expressed. "Good job, you two," he told them.

"Basically," Futaba continued, unaffected by Akira's praise, "what this means is, we better haul our asses down to the shuttle bay and you fighting folks better get ready to kick ass, take names, and then forget those names 'cause they're nothing but worthless mercenary peons!"

A glance at Haru showed concern in his friend's eyes, which Akira tried to assuage with a gentle smile. He'd already told the others that the only one they were supposed to actively try to kill was Madarame. Akechi had almost seemed offended by the concept of sparing mercenaries, and everyone else was vaguely confused, but Akira promised them that he had a reason, and he would tell them later whether he turned out to be right or not. Haru seemed somewhat calmed by his smile, and the group finally followed Futaba's lead to make their way down to the shuttle bay.

Once they piled onto the shuttle, Akira made quick work of suiting up in his environmental armor. The outside temperature read as below absolute zero, so he was definitely relieved to note that it was working properly. Once he had everything strapped into place, he checked his pistols over and then gave a quick test-summon of his particle daggers. The dark, crimson aura was soothing and he smiled against his volition. His particle implant was in top shape thanks to Mishima's weekly tune-up, so without any noted hiccups, he was ready to fight whatever came his way when they landed on the planet. A glance through the shuttle's display showed a violent snowstorm composed of massive snowflakes and a tempestuous wind which rocked the shuttle as it descended. As it stood, Akira could barely see a few feet out.

The shuttle made a rocky landing near a small building, which from Futaba's scans seemed to only be composed of one floor, but mainly underground. Only a small hint of it peeked outside, and the shuttle's enhanced cameras showed the enemy's cameras. They also showed several turrets, which were all pointed toward the shuttle.

"Looks like they were expecting us," Akira pointed out arbitrarily.

Akechi hummed his agreement. "Yes, we were aware that we likely wouldn't be able to get in undetected," he told Akira, standing far too close for comfort as he looked out the window.

Akira pointed at the turrets. "How about those? Were you aware of them?" he asked as he stepped to the side, putting a comfortable amount of distance between them.

Chuckling under his breath, Akechi shook his head. "No... I can't say we were," he murmured.

Futaba cleared her throat, drawing everyone's attention, then smirked. "Heh-heh-heh! Don't you worry, children," she declared. "In my infinite brilliance, I also hacked into those puppies and messed up their systems, so there's like... zero percent chance those turrets can actually fire. If they do manage somehow, they'll pretty much only blow themselves up!"

"Where would we be without you, Oracle?" Ann asked.

A wry grin on her face, Futaba shrugged. "I honestly don't know. Up Screwed Creek, being dragged to a waterfall, and without a paddle to row you to shore, probs," she boasted, leaning against the wall and holding her head high.

With that, the ground crew moved toward the door to start toward the structure. Unfortunately, the very second the doors opened and exposed them all to the harsh Susano-o climate, it felt like the chill was trying to rip through Akira's environmental armor and through his skin to chill him right down to the bone. The feeling only got worse when everyone hit the ground and Mishima took off, kicking up some snow and a breeze strong enough to almost knock everyone to the ground. Despite his best efforts, Akira shivered and had to force himself to focus on anything but the cold. It didn't work well, and he was unsurprised to see that none of his friends were doing any better.

"Holy fuck, man! It's as cold as a snowman's left nut here!" Ryuji's voice came over the communication system, into Akira's ear. It looked like Ryuji was trying to huddle in on himself for warmth, but ultimately failing.

Akira laughed. "That's... a pretty specific description, Skull," he joked, easing into their code names now that they were in enemy territory.

The code names were probably childish, now. Back when they'd been a small group of teenage pirates, Akira, Ryuji, Ann, and Futaba had used the names to keep themselves safe. Back then, they'd felt the need to protect their identities from enemies who might have hunted them down to get revenge. Now, they only really used the nicknames out of tradition. It was sort of a team bonding activity. As soon as someone joined the team, the rest of the group helped them pick their battle name. Some members of the group—mostly Futaba and Ryuji—even used the nicknames on the ship or when they were off duty.

It showed how different things were from when they were starting out. Back then, they were terrified of being discovered, but now? Now they were confident in themselves and sure that the Velvet Corps would help them if things went south, so they didn't really need to hide anymore. Now, it was just a fun tradition.

Haru giggled at Ryuji's description, and nodded. "Yes, it's... well, I would like to call it bracing, but I can't say I'm terribly fond of cold like this," she agreed.

As soon as Akira managed to somewhat adjust to the cold, he walked out in front of the group and started toward the mercenary hideout. "I have no idea what kind of environmental suits these people were wearing when they built this place, but I really hope it's not as cold once we get inside," he muttered.

"It can't be!" Ann decreed, as she summoned her defense spheres and charged them with fire, in a feeble attempt to provide the group with some semblance of warmth. "They'd totally be dead!"

Akira noted quietly that Ann's spheres weren't enough to keep them warm, it was really cold. Even with the small particle orb floating around his person, Akira could still feel the biting chill down to his bones, and he hurried his step up with the hope that it was warmer inside the facility. Ann was right. No one could survive cold like this for too long.

The very instant they arrived at the front of the structure, Akechi shouldered his way to the front of the group and, without orders, started hacking through the door. Normally, Akira would chastise him for it, but it was so cold that he honestly couldn't find it in him to complain. When the doors slid open with a metallic whir, Akira was immediately stunned by the manufactured heat coming from inside the building. He blinked against the lights, before stepping to the front of the group and leading them inside. Instinctively, Akira summoned one particle dagger, and reached for one of his pistols with the opposite hand. When he was sufficiently armed, he scanned the foyer area.

It was unnervingly silent in the room. The only things he could hear were the involuntary shudders of his teammates, and the sound of their footsteps against the metal floor. Akira activated the radar inside of his helmet and focused on the different life forms it picked up in the area. In this room, he couldn't seem to find any, but in the next room, the radar picked up a group of bodies, quickly moving toward an exit.

Before he could tell the others, Akechi spoke up. "It seems there's some sort of jammer in this room. I can't identify where it's coming from, but it's preventing me from getting an accurate—"

Akechi didn't get to finish his sentence. Out of the woodwork, from behind any and every piece of available furniture, came no fewer than ten mercenaries. The first thing Akira noticed was that not all of them were human. At least seven of them were synthetic, Akira could tell even from this distance. The last three, however, were human, and all ten had their focus trained on the group. At first, it seemed like everyone was taken completely off guard, and they scrambled slightly. Akira activated his barrier, just in time for it to absorb a blast of particle energy from one of the human attackers. He quickly responded in kind, firing a blast of his own which impacted with a low, humming twang and threw its target off-guard.

"My scans indicate that the main target is trying to escape through a back exit," Makoto announced.

Huffing indignantly, Akechi brushed Makoto's declaration off as he fired at one of the synthetics. "I'm not sure what you expect us to do about it, Queen. We have to stick together, and—"

Akira fired a particle blast, then ducked down and shook his head. "No, we don't," he told Akechi. "Queen, Panther, you two come with me. Crow, Skull, Noir, you three stay here and take care of this group."

"Joker, what do you think you're doing?" Akechi snapped.

It was honestly exhausting, exactly how much Akechi saw fit to fight against Akira's orders. In recent years, it was a lot worse than it was back when he first joined the team. Akira sighed and shook his head. "Working with what we have," he told Akechi before turning to the others.

Without hesitation, Haru nodded her head and fired a particle blast at one of the human attackers, knocking them to the ground. Akira was sure he didn't need to tell her why he was having her stay behind. Her job was to ensure Akechi didn't kill any of the human mercenaries, and to stealthily heal them with her particle abilities if the need arose. Akira trusted Makoto and Ann to follow his orders, and he trusted Ryuji to make sure Akechi listened as well. However, if Akechi came with Akira, it would devolve into a battle for leadership, just like it always did, and inevitably, there was a higher chance for the human mercenaries to come to harm.

Unfortunately, it didn't seem like Ryuji got the hint. After quickly dispatching a synthetic mercenary who got too close, Ryuji turned to Akira and asked, "Hey, what about me?"

"They're gonna need you out here, Skull," Akira continued.

Ryuji frowned. "What if you guys need me too?" he asked, his eyes lingering on Ann for a second too long.

Oh. That was what his hesitation was about. Akira knew about the little song and dance Ryuji and Ann had been doing for the better part of their time together on the team, and he wasn't really surprised to see it coming into play here. It wasn't often when the group needed to split up, and they were typically more efficient together, but naturally, Ryuji would have some objections when he couldn't be the one to protect Ann. Akira chuckled softly, not at all offended by the situation.

"Trust me, okay, Skull? We'll be alright," Akira reassured his friend.

Makoto spoke up before Ryuji could reply, and placed her hand on Akira's shoulder. "Not to interrupt, but it seems they've reached the back exit. Oracle has hacked the door and is jamming it presently, but—"

"Yeah, but I can't keep it jammed forever!" Futaba's voice came over the communication system in Akira's helmet, surprising him for a half-second. "So, whatever you guys are gonna do, I'm gonna need you to do it!"

Quietly, without raising their heads from behind cover, Akira, Ann, and Makoto made their way away from the group. Ryuji watched them for a second longer than he probably should have, before grunting in annoyance and firing on the first synthetic that looked at him wrong. Akira frowned. Later, he would have to apologize to his friend. Ann was more than capable of defending herself, but Akira knew it wasn't exactly easy for Ryuji to convince his mind of that when every instinct in his mind was screaming at him to protect her. Someday, Akira vowed, he would convince his friend to make a move. It wasn't like Ann didn't feel the same way.

Akira snapped his mind out of personal thoughts and back to the mission. The group headed down a crude metallic hallway, and Akira focused his radar on the group at the back door. Akira, Ann, and Makoto stopped at the door to the next room, and Akira tried to try and get a scan. When it came up empty, Akira realized the whole group was still near the back exit.

"Oracle," Akira called her over the intercom, "is there any way you can do something to drive them back into the main hall?"

After a second of silence, Futaba replied. "Um, hold on. Searching, searching... found something! It'll only be temporary but I can vent the exhaust from the heater into the room they're in. Just turn on your breathers so it doesn't get to you, too," she told the group. "I'll lock 'em in when they get to the main hall."

With a grin at Futaba's ingenuity, Akira answered. "Alright. Thanks, Oracle." He turned his attention to Makoto and Ann. "Wait for my signal, okay? Then we go."

Much to Akira's disappointment, it was surprisingly difficult to focus on the task at hand, with the sounds of combat coming from his friends down the hall. Luckily, it seemed like things were working out just fine. Ryuji's thunderous roars and the zaps of his electric attacks mixed with the sounds of Haru's particle attacks and healing and the occasional flash of Akechi's light attacks and tech zaps. It was kind of odd, honestly, that none of the enemies they fought made much noise outside of the occasional particle attack, but Akira decided not to think too much about it for the moment. Maybe later, when everything was said and done.

"Hacked!" Futaba's voice snapped him from his thoughts. "They're headed your way."

Akira nodded. "Good work," he told her.

Watching his radar closely, Akira paid attention to the myriad of dots—at least seven more, one of whom was probably Madarame. He listened closely to the door, and was surprised when he only heard one of those several people talking. He cursed through the chorus of hacking and coughing, but none of the others said a word. Strange, but again, not something he needed to think of at the moment.

"Useless, all of you!" an angry voice echoed through the group. "I fail to see the point of having bodyguards when they don't know how to appropriately guard your body. You have all been imbued with powerful particle skills, and yet none of you know how to use them to ensure I escape an ambush? Shido has placed endless faith in us and here you all are, squandering it! Perhaps I should just throw you out to the Susano-o cold, to see how long you all survive there!"

A second voice joined the first, this one softer and gentle. "Lord Madarame, we must hurry back to the shuttle. There is a contingent just outside the door, and a few more in the main hall—"

The first voice, Madarame's voice, boomed again. "Did I give you permission to speak, slave?" he asked.

"No, Lord Madarame," the soft voice answered, surprisingly emotionless for someone who had just been called a slave.

Madarame answered, "Then I don't require your opinion, do I?"

"Apologies, Lord Madarame."

The commands stopped for a moment, and Akira strained to listen, trying to determine if anything else was happening in the room. "You and you. Break the hack on the door. You, fix the exhaust fan in the shuttle bay once the door is open. The rest of you, fan out. If they wish to take me, they do not realize how much of a fight they're in for."

Akira frowned. That was the first time he'd heard anyone other than Madarame himself speak, and it was honestly unsettling. Was the mind control Haru mentioned strong enough to control their voices and keep them from speaking, or was that just some kind of policy Madarame drilled into their heads?

"I think that's our cue," Akira told Makoto and Ann. "Panther, spheres. Queen, be ready with a stasis field on the first one you see. And remember, don't kill them unless we absolutely have to, okay?"


	4. Chapter 4

As the doors slid open, the slide mechanism emitted a metallic whir which took any mystery out of their approach. As soon as the doors opened, the sound of a cavalcade of footsteps echoed throughout the room. Some footsteps were heavy and clunky, like they were coming from synthetics. The rest were swift and calculated, like they were coming from humans. Akira listened, trying to differentiate how many different sets of footsteps he could hear, but there were too many different sounds in the room to hear. He shook the thought away and led the charge into the room, getting to the first available cover: a massive cargo crate.

Once he was sure Ann and Makoto were safe behind the crate, Akira moved swiftly to his own cover, behind a counter in a small kitchenette. He poked his head around the side of the counter and looked around the base.

It was... strange. Never in Akira's whole life had he seen anything like this. It was definitely a base. There were cargo crates strewn about, as well as countless monitors and consoles the likes of which Akira couldn't identify if he tried, but outside of that, the wide-open space almost looked like a home. There was a living area in the back corner, as well as the kitchen he currently hid in. A couple of separate rooms jutted off down the hall toward the shuttle bay. Akira could only assume those were bedrooms and bathrooms. The odd homey appearance of the base wasn't even the strangest thing, though.

The strangest thing... was the art. All the reports claimed Madarame as an artist, so it wasn't really surprising, but at the same time, Akira never would have expected something like this. The walls were lined with what looked like priceless paintings. Several large sculptures adorned the large open space, as well. In the back of Akira's mind, he regretted that he'd probably have to use them as cover at some point. They were really beautiful, and Akira wished he had more time to appreciate them. Part of Akira was curious as to whether they were all Madarame's creations, but the rest of him also wondered if maybe he'd stolen them. The man had a reputation as an art thief and a plagiarist, after all.

Before he got the chance to give it more thought, the first shots were fired. Several mercenaries appeared from behind furniture and sculptures, almost as though they'd organized an attack together. Half of the mercenaries were organic, and half were synthetic, and it looked like the plan was to overwhelm Akira and his friends.

Luckily, Akira knew they were more than prepared.

A small contingent of three mercenaries got too close for Makoto's comfort, and she fired off a particle stasis field, catching all three of them in it effortlessly. While they were frozen, Akira followed up by shooting a warp field in their direction, which impacted with a dull twang and took down the barriers and shields of all three enemies. Ann quickly followed up by wrapping her particle lash around all three of them, allowing Makoto to hit them with a roundhouse kick, which sent them all to the ground in a heap. The one synthetic in the group shattered into bits of metal and scrap, and the two humans appeared to be unconscious.

With the first group dispatched, Akira quickly moved forward to the next available cover, silently ordering Ann and Makoto to pay attention. Before long, some of the mercenaries made it around their makeshift cover and tried to attack Ann and Makoto from their blind spot, but luckily, his friends were prepared. While they fought, the sound of gentle but swift footfalls caught Akira's attention. He was confident in his friends' fighting abilities, so he allowed himself to look in the opposite direction, following the sound of the footsteps and trying to figure out where they were coming from.

Akira moved quietly, allowing him to catch a pair of enemies off-guard. He charged his body with particle energy, smirking cockily as it buzzed through his being. He surged forward, crashing into both enemies and grabbing each one by the shoulder. He knocked them together, hard enough to knock them unconscious and send them to the floor in a heap. As the particle energy dissipated, he found himself feeling a little guilty as he looked at the unconscious pair. As he thought back to Haru's words, he murmured a silent apology under his breath, wondering if either person could hear him.

More light footsteps caught Akira's attention, and on instinct, he summoned his particle daggers and moved to take cover behind a large and twisting sculpture made of solid gold. He listened closely, trying to prepare for any sort of oncoming attack. Fortunately, his alertness allowed him to hear the footsteps from the other side of the sculpture. Akira crossed his daggers in defense, preparing to block the first attack to come his way. His instincts proved to be sharp as ever, because before he realized it, he was blocking a swing from a large, ice blue, particle katana.

The attacker's strength took Akira by surprise, and at first, he struggled to gain any sort of ground. In the back of Akira's mind, he was acutely aware that maybe he should have called to Ann or Makoto for help. He wasn't going to be able to hold out much longer. However, the very second Akira felt like he couldn't take any more, like his arms were going to give out... the katana-wielding attacker flinched for a split second. It was brief, but it allowed Akira the chance to gain some ground in their deadlock. Akira noticed a slight posture change, and the attacker loosened his stance even further, losing his grip and allowing Akira to gain even more ground.

Akira decided to jump on the opportunity. "Please, stop," he begged the man, whose gray eyes he could see through the visor on his helmet. "We don't want to kill any of you!"

Most of the time, Akira intoned, this would be when a combatant came back with a comment about not caring what their plans were. This attacker, however, didn't. In fact, he didn't say anything at all. Emotionless gray eyes peered out from behind the man's helmet, almost like he was looking straight through Akira, instead of at him. In a flash, the man's strength returned, just as fierce it was before that strange flinch, and he pushed back against Akira's daggers with renewed vigor.

Akira pushed back just as hard... maybe even harder than before. He needed to break this standstill. With a free hand, Akira would have been able to use his particle abilities to push the guy back. As if reading his mind, Ann's fire-red particle lash whipped through the air in front of him and grabbed hold of the attacker's blade. She pulled, and the summoned katana vanished into thin air, sending the gray-eyed attacker tumbling to the floor in the direction Ann had pulled.

The impact almost seemed to break him. For a brief second, Akira saw a flash of light in his eyes, and they almost looked like they were begging, pleading with Akira to do something.

What was it, though? What did he want Akira to do? Unfortunately, he still didn't speak. It was almost like he couldn't.

The flash was gone just as quickly as last time, and Akira's attacker scrambled back his feet to prepare to fight again. Akira didn't give him a chance to get his weapon back. Before the gray-eyed man had a chance to recover, Akira threw out a warp field, catching him off guard and knocking him back to the floor. For a moment, he didn't move. He lie there, almost like he was being pinned by some kind of invisible force, and Akira wondered what the hell was going on. Was this the mind control Haru was talking about? Was he breaking through it somehow? If he was... how was he doing it?

While Akira's mind was reeling, the gray-eyed man got up again. A quick appraisal showed that he looked just as empty and blank as he had when they first started fighting. Akira frowned, trying to search for some hint of emotion in the man's eyes, but unfortunately, the man used the opportunity to his advantage. While Akira was off-guard, the attacker thrust his hand out, sending an ice blue particle attack soaring through the air and impacting with Akira's chest. The impact chilled Akira, making him shudder against his volition as he stumbled backward.

Akira tried to recover quickly, but before he had a chance, the gray-eyed man rushed up to him and swiped at him with his particle katana. Akira dodged backward, barely missing the katana swipe, and quickly moved around the statue, to give himself a chance to formulate a plan.

In the end, he didn't need to formulate a plan. The gray-eyed man charged up, preparing to throw another particle attack Akira's way. However, when he flicked his wrist to release the attack, instead of releasing it forward, it traveled back down his arm and struck him instead. Akira watched in wide-eyed shock as the gray-eyed man gasped, and his knees buckled beneath him. The mercenary stumbled for a second, then fell to his knees, struggling to stand back up.

Makoto took the opportunity as soon as it was presented, hitting the gray-eyed man with a stasis field. Akira raised his hand, silently telling his friends not to attack any further. He rushed up behind the gray-eyed man, wrapping an arm around him in a gentle sleeper hold. For a second, the man struggled, grabbing at Akira's arm and tugging in a desperate attempt to get Akira to let go. Despite his concern, Akira maintained his hold, and as the gray-eyed mercenary faded into unconsciousness, Akira pulled out a pair of particle handcuffs, and quickly attached them to the mercenary's wrists.

"I'm sorry," Akira murmured to the man's unconscious form, taking great relief in the fact that his chest was still rising and falling with steady breath. When they got back to the ship, they'd figure out what was going on.

For now, the situation around Akira was quickly going from bad to worse. The mercenary aiding Madarame with the door finally managed to hack the lock and pull it open. With a loud shout, Madarame called for his "slaves," in a loud bellow which managed to make the unconscious gray-eyed mercenary twitch. Akira realized how quickly the situation would go south if they didn't get out of here soon.

Futaba's voice came over the speaker in Akira's ear, all but confirming what he already knew. "Uh... not to be a Debbie Downer, Joker, but if you don't get your happy asses out of there, those asses won't be so happy when all those mercenaries wake back up and blast a whole new hole into 'em!"

When Makoto appeared at Akira's side, she nodded. "I agree. We should hurry back to the shuttle as quickly as possible," she told him.

Akira knew they were right, but he still didn't answer right away. Instead, he simply starred at the vulnerable gray-eyed mercenary, lying unconscious on the floor. Something about the look in his eyes—in those brief moments when he seemed to flinch and almost allow Akira to get the upper hand—almost seemed to be pleading for help. While Akira didn't understand exactly what the request was for, he couldn't help his curiosity. It shouldn't have mattered, Akira realized that fully, but it did matter to him.

It wasn't in Akira's nature to turn away from someone in need, even if that someone had been trying to kill him moments earlier.

"Joker?" Ann called.

The rest of the human mercenaries seemed to be rustling to various levels of awareness, and Akira turned to his friends. "Watch my back," he told them, before rushing up to the gray-eyed mercenary and crouching down to the floor.

"Joker, what are you—"

Makoto's protest was quickly silenced with a half-laugh from Akira. "I honestly have no idea, Queen."

Even as he claimed not to know what he was doing, Akira placed his arms behind the mercenary's back and knees, picking him up in a bridal carry. That only lasted for a second, before Akira lifted the man higher and draped the unconscious body over his shoulder. Despite how lanky he was, his height made it difficult to carry him at first. After a brief struggle, Akira managed to find a comfortable position, then turned his attention back to his escape. With Ann and Makoto watching his back and prepared to fend off any of the other mercenaries if they awoke, Akira rushed out into the hall where the others were just finishing with the last synthetic.

"What is this?" Akechi scoffed, gesturing at the mercenary's body on Akira's shoulder.

Ann shrugged. "Joker wanted to help him, I guess? I dunno," she answered. Despite the question in her tone, Akira knew Ann would understand exactly what he was doing as soon as he explained it to her.

Akechi, on the other hand, looked disgusted by the situation. "I assume the plan is to leave him in the snow."

"Nope," Akira countered, not granting the claim the time of day as he turned toward the door and led the team outside to the frozen wastes.

Unfortunately, Akechi seemed content to continue his protests. He continued complaining while they waited for the shuttle, and for most of the return flight back to the ship. In fact, he only stopped when Haru stepped in front of him, leveled him with a glare, and declared, "if Akira saw fit to bring him back, there must be a good reason, correct? He has never led astray wrong before, so I feel we should put our faith in his good judgment."

Fortunately, the others seemed to agree with Haru's defense. Ryuji nodded eagerly, though he still stared at the limp, unconscious body in the corner of the room. "Yeah. I don't know what Akira's thinkin', but I'm sure he has a reason. I trust him."

Akechi still had doubts, and unfortunately, it was very much not in his nature to keep those doubts to himself. "Unless that reason is to take him back to the Bastion, so the council can send him to prison, I fail to see what benefit it would be for us to have a murderous mercenary on our ship," he snapped.

"Yeah, well," Ann snapped, "I don't think that's your place. Akira's the leader, and I trust him."

Futaba seemed to be exhausted as she listened to the argument from the front of the ship. "Are we about done with the argue-and-complain hour? 'Cause Nishi and me picked up a really weird frequency coming from Unconscious McSnoozy over there."

A frequency? Akira turned to look toward the mercenary, before closing the distance between them and crouching over his slumbering form. Akechi still protested—arguments which Akira blocked out as quickly as they came—and much to Akira's surprise, even pulled his gun out. A glance over Akira's shoulder showed him aiming his gun right at the attacker's head. Akira narrowed his eyes and silently demanded Akechi to lower his weapon, which he only did when Haru glared and pushed his arm down to his side.

"When he strangles you, don't come crying to me, leader," Akechi mocked, leaning back against the wall of the shuttle.

Akira ignored the taunt, mostly because the mercenary was cuffed to a pole, so there was very little chance he would actually be able to strangle Akira. He took a glance up at the atmosphere display and noting, thankfully, that it was stable. First, Akira took his own helmet off to make it easier to see. He handed it off to Futaba, who had approached behind him. Then, slowly and tentatively, he reached out to unlatch the mercenary's helmet. Admittedly, there was a rise of panic when the helmet opened, but Akira chased it away easily as he pulled the helmet away.

The last thing Akira wanted was for Akechi to see any fear, or worse, think he was right.

With the helmet gone, it was easy to see where the frequency was coming from. Peeking out from the mercenary's temple—the place where one usually had a particle implant installed—was a wire, which led from his temple and down to his ear. The wire went deep into the mercenary's ear, and Akira found himself curious as to whether it was attached to the eardrum or the brain. Either way, it looked almost painful, and if it was playing a frequency in the mercenary's ear, Akira had to wonder if—

"A robot?" Ryuji questioned, breaking Akira's thought process. "So you should've—"

Akira shook his head. "He's human. My radar picked him up as a human. I don't think that's a robot wire," he suggested.

Futaba shook her head. "A robot wouldn't need a frequency to be played right into their ears, either," she pointed out. "A chip, or an antenna, or something… that's all they'd need. I don't think he's a bot, guys. Pretty sure he's human."

"A wire going from the ear to the brain," Makoto added, as she crouched down next to Akira, "may indicate a brainwashing frequency."

Ann gasped, and without looking, Akira could almost see the horrified look on her face. "Like, mind-controlling? So, what, he was fighting against his will, or something?" she asked.

Chuckling under his breath, Akechi shook his head dismissively. "I think that's a bold assumption, Takamaki. Just because he has a wire protruding from his temple, doesn't mean he's been brainwashed."

Akira exchanged a glance with Haru. As much as it would simplify things to bring up their conversation from earlier, Akira knew why Haru didn't want him to. Rather than throw his friend under the bus, Akira opted to try and figure out a new way to prove Akechi wrong.

"No, I think Panther's right," Akira replied. "While we were fighting, I noticed, like… this flash, almost. There were these times when it almost seemed like he was trying to let me win. We were crossing blades for a minute, right? And I was having trouble gaining ground. But then he let up. Stopped fighting so hard. When he did that, I could see this flash of awareness on his face, where he looked like he didn't want to be fighting me. Like he was pleading with me to help him or something."

Doubt was etched firmly into Akechi's features, and he huffed a disapproving laugh. "Or perhaps he was trying to lull you into a false sense of security, Kurusu. To prey on that bleeding heart of yours."

Maybe he was right. Maybe this whole thing would end up blowing up in Akira's face. Still, even if it did, Akira couldn't bring himself to regret it, and he would take every ounce of the blame. If he left, if he walked away and left this guy behind when there was even a chance that he wasn't fighting of his own free will, he would have been exactly the type of person he hated. All of his friends—and Akechi as well—were part of the Phantom Pirates because they were neglected and looked over by the rest of the world. It would be a massive betrayal of everything they stood for to just overlook someone else in need.


	5. Chapter 5

Akechi's complaints didn't stop, no matter how many times the others on the crew reminded him that it was Akira's ship, and that Akira was trustworthy. It was nice to hear his friends remind him that they trusted him, but he knew Akechi would never fully trust him, no matter how many times he was right. The only way he could get Akechi to keep his arguments to himself was to agree to keep the mercenary restrained. Akira felt incredibly guilty as he regarded the particle cuffs on the man's wrist, tethering him to the bedpost. It felt unfair and cruel, even if he knew deep down that Akechi was right and they didn't know how the man would react when he woke up.

It was almost painful for Akira to admit Akechi was right in any sense of the word, but it was even worse when someone else was being mistreated because of it. In the end, there was nothing he could do about it, which made him feel all the worse as he examined the mercenary's unconscious form. It had been several hours, and he still wasn't awake yet. Akira was worried. What if he'd done lasting damage?

Dr. Takemi had never mentioned any lasting damage, and Akira allowed that to comfort him as he turned his head to glance at the doctor's desk. After stabilizing the mercenary, the first thing Tae had done was to remove the mercenary's implant. Akira remembered her telling him how delicate the procedure had been, and how glad she was that she had everything she needed to undertake a procedure like that. She told him exactly how deeply the implant was entrenched in the poor mercenary's brain, and Akira's guilt intensified at the thought.

"I've seen a lot of weird implants in my time, but I've never seen one like this," Tae admitted, glancing down at the mess of wires on her desk. "This one has external wires. Almost looks like the 'back alley surgeon' of implant tech. Mishima and Futaba are gonna either be horrified or fascinated."

Akira chuckled softly. "Maybe both," he mused.

Smirking over her shoulder, Tae nodded. "That's probably closer to the truth," she agreed.

Exhaustion took hold and Akira slumped into the chair next to Tae's desk, looking the implant over. "Is that a speaker? I guess Futaba did say it was broadcasting a weird frequency, but... I don't think I've ever seen an implant with a speaker," he admitted.

Tae nodded. "Yeah. At first, I thought it was a hearing aid, but then I realized it's something a whole hell of a lot worse," she explained. "The frequency fires odd synapses to a part of the wearer's brain that pretty much surrenders their autonomy to whoever has control of the speaker itself. It looks like they changed the frequency when they wanted to exhibit more or less control over the target. Higher for more control, lower for less."

Akira's face pulled into a frown. "That sounds… really not good."

"That's an understatement. Like something out of a horror movie," Tae answered with a nod.

It sounded like a lot of fancy medical jargon to confirm exactly what Akira already knew. "So, he was definitely being brainwashed, then," he muttered.

Tae shrugged. "A little more than brainwashed, I think. More like... puppeted. Mind-controlled and puppeted, his body completely surrendered to the mercy of whoever controlled this thing," she explained, gesturing in disgust at the implant.

Slowly, hesitantly, Akira held the mercenary's implant in his hand, looking it over and frowning. It really didn't look like a normal implant, Dr. Takemi was right. It looked more illegal than theirs were, like it was built of scraps of old technology from old implants and made to be incredibly painful. The wire hung off it still, linking to some sort of weird speaker. The speaker was implanted so deep in the guy's ear that it would have been impossible for him to avoid the sound. Akira put the speaker close to his ear, and it seemed almost like it was broadcasting a constant high-pitched frequency.

Akira didn't hold it to his ear for long. Instead, he detached the wire from the implant and blinked in amazement at the weird feedback noise it made. The wire threw off sparks for a moment, but Akira dropped it to the floor and smashed it under his boot, crushing the speaker under his heel. Maybe it was a rash decision, but the last thing Akira wanted was something like this on the ship, running the risk of falling into the wrong hands. As for the mercenary's particle implant? Akira would take it to Mishima. Mishima had custom made implants for everyone on the crew. If anyone could fix this implant to work for the mystery mercenary without the harmful synapses, it was him.

"Sparks. A little extra, but I guess we're dealing with an evil overlord, or something," Tae mused as she glanced at the crushed bits of metal.

Laughing bitterly, Akira nodded. "Seems like it, doesn't it? Thanks, Tae," he told her as he turned to leave.

Before he could get too far, though, Tae stopped him with a hand to his shoulder. "What do you plan to do from here?" she asked him calmly.

Akira huffed a breath of laughter and shrugged. "Well, first of all, I'm gonna take this to Mishima and see if he can fix it. You know, without the ear-piercing mind-control bit," he mused. "Then, I guess I'm gonna have to get on comms and tell Sae and the people back at Velvet that we failed. Not looking forward to that call."

With a chuckle, Tae ticked her head to the side and smirked. "I'll call Sae and ease the blow later, don't worry."

Again, Akira laughed. "Owe you one. Guess that's the advantage of having your boss dating your ship's doctor, huh?" he asked.

"One of 'em," Tae teased. "What about him?" she continued, her gaze turning back to the mercenary's unconscious form.

That was the million yen question, wasn't it? Akira puffed out a steady stream of air and thought it over. He had a few options. For a fleeting moment, Akira thought back to Akechi's insistence that they bring him back to the Velvet Corps so they could imprison him. Just as quickly as the thought entered Akira's mind, he dismissed it. No chance. Not only did it seem wrong, but it was unfair, especially not with the knowledge that nothing the mercenary had done was of his own free will. He could let the mercenary loose on the Bastion, but a part of him felt like that was just as cruel as taking him to the Velvet Corps. Abandoning a man who had been used as a fighting slave for who knew how long, forced to fight against his will? No. That wasn't Akira's style either.

Akira supposed that left only one option. "I think I'm gonna see if he's interested in joining us."

The exact instant the words escaped Akira's mouth, the door to the med bay whirred open, and Akechi entered the room. In the back of Akira's mind, he wondered if Akechi had been listening all along. Through the med bay window, Akira saw Haru stirring from her seat in the mess hall, rushing into the room. Despite Akechi's presence, Haru's kindness brought a smile to Akira's face.

A smile which quickly faded when Akechi spoke again. "I beg your pardon?" he asked.

"I'm assuming you heard me, if you're gonna sit there and judge my choice," Akira replied, quickly waving at Haru as she entered behind Akechi.

Akechi nodded tersely, watching Haru breeze past him. "Yes I did," he answered, "and I had hoped I was imagining things. We should be discussing imprisonment or execution, not allowing him to join our forces, Kurusu."

Taking her place squarely between Akechi and the mercenary's unconscious body, Haru spoke up as well. "Akechi-san, I hardly think it's your place to question our leader's decisions," she declared.

"When those decisions are reckless and put our safety partially in the hands of a murderous mercenary?" Akechi countered. "Yes, it is absolutely my place, Okumura-san."

Akira huffed in annoyance. "A mercenary who wasn't willing to—"

"Pardon the interruption, but that's just conjecture at the moment, isn't it?" Akechi snapped, his eyes narrowed at Akira in annoyance.

With a heavy sigh, Akira shrugged and nodded. "Okay, yeah. Maybe it is. Maybe he was willing and my assumption is way off base. If you ask me, though? A group of privateers turning a formerly-brainwashed mercenary over to the authorities seems like a contradiction, doesn't it?" he asked, but continued before Akechi could come up with some bogus reason he was wrong. "You're forgetting something, Akechi. Most of the people on this ship have been forced to kill people. Whether it was for Velvet, for their own survival, or to protect other people, by that standard we all have blood on our hands. Maybe before you question why I'd offer this potentially unwilling mercenary a spot on our crew, you should take a look in the mirror."

For the moment, Akechi seemed too dumbstruck to respond, and Akira considered that a victory. Turning to Haru, he flashed a weak smile and gestured toward the mercenary. "Watch over him, okay Haru? I'm gonna take this to Mishima and see if there's anything he can do."

Haru nodded. "Of course," she agreed.

As Akira left the room, he cast one last glance at Akechi, then shared a knowing glance with Haru, in a moment of silent communication. "Watch over him" obviously meant "protect him from Akechi," but Akira neither wanted nor needed to say as much aloud. Haru nodded once, telling him without saying as much that she understood exactly what he meant, and she placed herself closer to the mercenary's bed in the infirmary than where Akechi stood. Akechi grumbled to himself and started eyeing the mercenary's chart. In spite of himself, Akira couldn't help but be annoyed at Akechi's reaction.

It was true, what he'd told Akechi: no one on this ship was innocent. The ground crew was all guilty of what could easily be called murder. Some of them were guilty of it as members of the Phantom Pirates and some were guilty even before the group was formed. The "victims" were all people who deserved to be killed, which was why the Velvet Corps saw fit to put them on a crew together, rather than have them all executed for their crimes. As far as the law went, though... they were all criminals. Akira didn't understand why it was so hard for Akechi to accept.

All the same, he shook his head sharply, snapping himself out of his annoyance, and started toward the flight deck, where Mishima would inevitably be. When the ship was running fine and no implants needed fixing, he was always there. Sure enough, Futaba and Mishima were sitting in their respective chairs, sharing their curiosity about what technology could possibly be housed in the mercenary's implant. Akira laughed as he approached, and he looked at the implant in his hand.

"I wonder what type of brainwashing it was," Futaba pondered aloud. "There's so many different kinds, you know? Like the one Madam Yoro did against the Serpent Warriors in Super Magical Time Warrior Lordesses X2, when they woke up and couldn't remember anything?"

Mishima nodded vehemently, turning toward Futaba with a wide smirk. "Oh, yeah! I remember that arc! Ooh, that would suck, though. When the Victorian Queen took the brainwashing masks off, they reverted to being pretty much babies, didn't they?" he asked, hissing through his teeth and shaking his head.

With wide-eyes, Futaba hummed thoughtfully. "Yeah, that would suck. Imagine if when Snoozy McSleepador wakes up, he can't walk or talk or even use the bathroom on his own?" she asked.

Akira frowned. He knew they were talking about an anime, but he couldn't help but be concerned all the same. Tae had never really mentioned anything about the implant having any permanent side-effects like that, but that didn't mean it wasn't a possibility. What if, without the implant, the mercenary couldn't even function properly? Akira stayed quiet for a minute, looking down at the broken pieces of the implant in his hand and worried his lip. Maybe they should have left it in and tried to find a way to disable the transmitter part instead. Was something like that even possible?

Mishima's voice snapped Akira from his thoughts. "I'd love to get my hands on that implant, just so I could know for sure," he muttered.

In spite of Akira's worries, he managed a chuckle. "Looks like it's your lucky day, Mishima," he mused.

"Oh, hey Akira!" Mishima waved.

Futaba didn't let Mishima get another word in edgewise, before leaping up from the pilot's seat and taking a pair of hopping steps to stop right in front of Akira. "Kiki! Are you here to be our personal genie and grant our greatest wish?" she asked.

The excitement on both of his friends' faces pulled another genuine smile from Akira. "Looks like it," he told them, breezing past Futaba and offering the implant to Mishima. "Here. I uh... took the wire off. I'm not sure if that'll screw with your research, but..."

After blowing a raspberry, Futaba peered over Akira's shoulder and glanced at the implant in Mishima's hand. "You kiddin'? Nishi can take the smallest piece of an implant and figure out exactly what makes it tick," she said, waving her hand dismissively.

Mishima grinned bashfully at Futaba, his cheeks tinged pink, then shrugged and looked at Akira. "Yeah, that's more than enough. What do you want me to do?" he asked.

"Well, research is fine, but... I want you to take the transmission bit out of it, if I didn't already do that when I broke it," Akira explained. "I need a working implant that won't hurt him, so he can use it when he wakes up."

Futaba stepped out from behind Akira and hummed softly. "What if he's really messed up without it, though? Like... what if he can't even function and he's completely—"

Cutting her off with a shake of his head, Akira tried to disguise his worry under a mask of confidence. "We'll cross that bridge if we come to it, Futaba," he told her. "Can you fix it, Mishima?"

With a confident nod, Mishima looked over the implant in his hand and flipped the switch to autopilot. "I'll have to let MONA pilot the ship for now, though, 'cause I think I'll need Futaba to help me, is that okay?" he asked.

Akira nodded. "Take us back to the Bastion, MONA. Calm and safe pace," he told the ship's AI.

"We're on our way to the Bastion, Joker! With the current speed and galactic climate, that'll be about three days. Make sure you all get plenty of rest on the trip!" MONA suggested in his chipper voice.

Akira had to laugh. Initially, the ship's AI was a lot more robotic, but Futaba and Mishima had worked their magic, rooting around in the settings and turning the system into its own person, almost. Between his 'advice' and his willingness to help the group in any way possible, calling the AI and 'AI' didn't even seem appropriate anymore.

Futaba beamed. "Thanks, Mona!" she told the AI, giving his switchboard a pat.

Once everything was settled, the three of them started back down the hallway. As Akira stretched and yawned, Mishima and Futaba went right back to talking about different brainwashing techniques they'd seen in anime, and exactly how nasty the effects were on the victims. None of them sounded particularly good. Each scenario they brought forth had Akira worrying more and more. In some of their stories, the victims died. In others, the victims had a constant, blinding headache for the rest of their lives. If he'd forced the mercenary—he really wished he knew the poor guy's name so he could stop calling him "the mercenary"—into a terrible situation like that, he would never forgive himself.

In the back of his mind, Akira was fully aware that he shouldn't have been so worried. It was all fictional stuff, and he knew he shouldn't have been quite so worried about a stranger. Even so, he wanted to show the mercenary the same courtesy Futaba's father Sojiro had shown him when he gave Akira and his friends the Leblanc. The same courtesy they'd shown everyone else on this ship.

Futaba seemed to sense his tension, and poked him in the arm, successfully breaking his train of thought. "You gonna do what Akechi wants and turn this guy over to Velvet?" she asked.

Akira shook his head and chuckled. "When have I ever done what Akechi wants me to, Futaba?"

With a smirk, Futaba leaned over and elbowed Mishima in the ribs. "Best captain ever, huh?"

Mishima nodded. "Yeah, but I still can't believe Akechi's being so... stupid about this," he muttered. "It's not like he's totally innocent, either!"

"Yeah, well," Futaba shrugged, "you know Akechi, Nishi."

Humming and nodding, Mishima sighed. "I wish he'd leave."

Akira chuckled again. "Me too," he admitted.

Part of Akira wasn't sure he wanted to be in the infirmary with Akechi, but the rest of him knew that leaving Akechi alone with the mercenary was a really bad idea. If the mercenary woke up and showed any sort of adverse reaction to being awake, it would inevitably take more than just Haru to stop him from attacking without thinking. Sometimes, Akira swore his reactions were calculated, no matter how much he swore they weren't.

Hesitantly, Akira parted from Mishima and Futaba on the second floor and headed back to the infirmary. From a distance, through the window in the mess hall, it didn't look like much had changed. Haru was still sitting next to the mercenary's bed, and Akechi still had his hand on his gun. It looked almost like he was searching for a reason to shoot. When the door whirred open to let Akira in, Akechi visibly jumped and Akira couldn't help but be a little amused. Fear was unexpected. Akechi had never shown fear before.

"Any change?" Akira asked Haru.

Haru shook her head. "No, not yet," she insisted, standing so Akira could have the chair. She crossed the room to help Dr. Takemi set up for when—or, if—the mercenary woke up.

Akira slumped into a chair across the room. In the back of his mind he knew he had to go debrief Sae and Velvet Command, but at the moment, he was more concerned about the mercenary. Akira leaned his head against the wall and thought back on the mission. They'd failed to catch Madarame, but if this stranger was willing to work with them, maybe they could get information on Madarame's organization, and who he was working for. Arguably, Sae and Velvet would think this was better. With that thought in mind, Akira let his eyes flutter closed and allowed himself a moment to relax.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND SO. Here we are at the end of Part 1. I hope you guys like the start I have here, and are on board for the rest! Once again, thanks to [Nada](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NadaCreations/pseuds/NadaCreations) for helping keep me on track and making sure the whole thing makes sense!
> 
> Part 2 is coming soon! ♥

**Author's Note:**

> FIND ME!  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/lizibabbles) ;; [tumblr](http://lizibabbles.tumblr.com/)


End file.
